


Unlikely Alliance

by Macx



Category: Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Ghosts, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-15
Updated: 2011-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when your apartment is haunted? Call the Ghostbusters. What if your room mate is actually not quite human? Damn, you have a problem...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unlikely Alliance

**Author's Note:**

> originally written in the mid-nineties

_My name is Anthonia Jeanette Calloway, but everyone calls me Tony, if they know what's good for them. Or A.J.; I also accept that, though it sounds like that blond detective from the TV show. I like that guy. He's my favorite, but that doesn't mean I want to be called A.J. But I'm drifting off from what I wanted to write down._

 _I was never much into writing a diary and I'm still not sure whether I'm really doing the right thing. But nonetheless ... All the things that have happened to me since I turned 18 are so unbelievable and crazy that I decided 'what the heck!' and bought this little book. Whoever might read this in the future, believe me: everything's true. And maybe you're in just the same situation as I am right now._

 _But to start from the beginning. Five years ago was my 18th birthday. No big deal, really. At least not for me. I got the usual presents from Mom and Dad and all the relatives that could come gathered for the party. I invited some friends over and we had a great time. A day later Aunt Marga arrived. I'll never forget this day as long as I live. Aunt Marga is always late where festivities are concerned; I think she hates crowds. I saw her and Mom talk for some time, and then they called me to the livingroom. What they told me made me gape first, then giggle, then shake my head. It's so unbelievable that I still wouldn't believe it if the living proof of the truth wouldn't sit only a few feet away from me, reading a book._

 _Mom and Aunt Marga introduced me to Damien, a demon. Don't laugh, it's true. Sure, he doesn't look like a demon. In fact, he's one of the best looking men I've met since school, but that's irrelevant now. He is a demon, a creature from the Netherworld. Until that day I hadn't even heard of such a thing as the Netherworld. Now I know all about it._

 _How come that a demon is living with my aunt you may ask. Good question. To make a long story short: my aunt's family is protecting him and he's protecting the family. And he's been in the family for a long, long, very long time. And what does that have to do with my birthday? A lot. Since Aunt Marga was moving to Europe with my Uncle Steve she decided she could no longer keep Damien. She actually said 'keep'. As if he was a piece of furniture! As I look back now I think they didn't have the best of friendships, Damien and my Aunt._

 _Well, my Mom was the only living blood relative of my aunt. And I was the only living blood relative young enough to bond with him. Bond. Hah! I thought it would involve magic and rituals and all. But it was more like, 'Hi, I'm Tony', that's it. Mom didn't want him in the house and I was already making plans to move out. So my aunt got rid of Damien by 'giving' him to me and I got my own living space by having a demon as a room-mate._

 _I can't tell you what trouble we had in the first few weeks. Damien was used to being as invisible around the apartment as possible, and it made me crazy how he could sit on the couch for hours and hours. It was hard work to get him to go out! Now everything's working great. I have my studies and he's busy around the house._

 _That I don't get into any serious male relationships because there's a guy hanging around most of the times doesn't bother me much -- now. Damien's fun to be with. And all the friends I have accept him. Do I have a crush on him? Nah, are you kidding? He's a demon! And besides: I'm not the girl who likes men in black, wearing sun-glasses, even inside, and having red glowing eyes. I don't know why but he was never able to get rid of that red glow permanently. Okay, I'm drifting off the subject again._

 _Had I known more about the 'protection' business, I think I'd have said 'no' on that fateful day. But I didn't say 'no'. Maybe it was general liking of the demon -- he really is cute. Maybe it was something else.._

 

 

"Ah, no! Not again!" a female voice shouted over the thundering noise echoing through the small apartment. Somewhere lightning flashed and lit the room the woman was standing in. "I'm fed up with this!"

Another clash of thunder and this time a crack in the wall appeared. An orange light glowed forebodingly through the crack. The woman lifted one hand to shield her eyes from the glow. All of a sudden the ground started to shake. Risking a quick look through her fingers she discovered that the crack was widening and that the wallpaper around the crack was starting to smoke.

"Oh, bugger!" she muttered and then fell backwards as someone pulled her away from the crack.

"Stay down," a voice rumbled close to her ear and she followed the advice.

From her position on the floor she heard a hiss and a growl, followed by a brief flash of light again. The glow in the wall intensified, blinding her completely. But her hearing was all right. There was an inhuman scream and somebody cursed in an unknown language. Lightbulbs popped and showered the floor with glass; and then, all of a sudden, the thunder disappeared, the glow vanished, and an eerie silence fell over the apartment. Only heavy breathing could be heard.

"Gee," the woman whispered, running a hand through her short, spikey hair, and getting up. "That was a close one."

"You okay?" a voice asked out of the darkness in the room. It was a male, slightly shaky voice, also a bit rough, as if the owner of the voice had a too dry throat.

"Yeah, I'm okay. How 'bout you?"

"I have to confess that I've felt better. Much better," he added, his voice wavering a bit more. There was a rustle like wings folding.

She searched for a flashlight, which she knew she kept in a drawer. Stumbling over to the desk she pulled open the drawer, got out the flashlight and turned it on.

"Oh, geez!" she moaned as she took in the devastated room.

"Sorry," the man said weakly. "Couldn't help taking a  few things out."

She walked over to where he stood. "Not your fault. What'd you do? Banish him? Blast him? Pulverize him?"

He grinned a bit. "No, I tried to close the gateway."

"Tried?" she echoed. "Don't tell me he'll be back, Damien!"

Damien sighed wearily, taking off his sun-glasses and rubbing his eyes. When he looked at her there was a dull red light glowing in them. "Yes, he will. He's growing stronger."

"Argh!" The woman lifted her hands as if appealing to heaven. "What have I done to deserve this. No-one ever had these problems and now ...... why me?" Not waiting for an answer she turned to him. "We need help."

"Help?" he echoed.

"Don't look so confused. We need help to solve this problem. We can't handle it alone." She looked determined and her tone of voice left no room for arguments.

"Yes, we can," Damien protested weakly, trying to argue nevertheless.

"Yeah, I just saw that. He nearly came through. Listen, my friend, I've known you for a long, long time and I want to go on knowing you for some more time. You don't have the power to hold him back the next time."

"You don't know that ...." he interjected.

She waved his words aside. "I know. You are barely able to walk right now and he didn't even get through. I don't intend to end up as a steaming puddle of something, y'know. I hate dying. Not my thing."

He winced again, sitting slowly down on one of the apartment's still intact chairs. "You won't die. I'll protect you," he said fervently.

"You and what Starfleet?"

"You're watching too much TV," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

"Damien," she said slowly, her voice softening. "You can't do it alone. We need help. Urgently. And I'm not talking about Art Bluethale downstairs."

Green eyes looked at him, asking him to understand. He shrugged in defeat, knowing she was right, but unable to confess it. She laid a hand on his arm, squeezing it. He winced and tried to surpress a groan. She had unknowingly touched a sore spot.

 "Damien?" she questioned. "I won't decide without you and you know it, but this situation is too much for us to handle. He is too strong." Her eyes narrowed. "And you are hurt."

Tony had taken one look at the pair of wings and that was all she needed to see the wet, glistening spot between the black feathers. And then there was his grimace as she had touched the arm ... not to count his stiff back and the dull red glow in his eyes. She knew that meant he was injured and in pain.

"Just a scratch," the man tried to ward her off, waving dismissively.

She scowled. "Scratch," she echoed with total disbelief. "Right." Plugging at the glistening, blood stained black feathers she drew a yelp of pain from him.

"Okay, okay," he confessed through gritted teeth, trying to get our of her 'caring' reach. "So it's a big scratch. It'll heal; you know it will." Trying to get her off the subject of his injury he asked, "Who do you have in mind? I mean with helping us."

She smiled. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

The demon simply groaned. She was definitely watching too much TV.

 

* * *

 

Janine Melnitz looked up from her work when she heard the heavy door of the fire hall close audibly. Their visitor, who now crossed the hall in determined strides, was a blonde woman. To Janine she appeared in her early twenties. Her hair had a wild spiky look, complimenting her faded jeans and the black leather jacket. In one hand she held a black-and-neon colored motor-cyclist's helmet. She was followed by a tall, dark-haired man in a similar outfit. He was dressed all in black and wearing sun-glasses. While the woman looked very determined, the man appeared somewhat doubtful.

"Hello," Janine greeted the two visitors. "How can I help you?"

"I need to talk to the Ghostbusters. It's urgent," the woman began.

"The Ghostbusters are not in right now, Miss .....?"

"Calloway," she answered. "Tony Calloway." She looked around the empty and quiet fire hall. "When will they be back? It's really urgent. We have quite an .... annoying problem with some ghosts."

Janine saw the man grimace as Tony Calloway said 'annoying' and 'ghosts'. It made her frown. "I don't know when they'll be back. They were called to a bust. Could be right now, could be in some more hours. Why don't you leave your number and address?"

"And be some case to be solved in the far future? No way. I need this help really urgently!" The blond woman's green eyes stared pleadingly at Janine.

The secretary sighed. "Listen, Miss Calloway ......."

"Yah!"

The surprised cry made both women turn to the dark-haired man. He was fending off Slimer, who was circling him curiously. The little, green ghost wore a frown on his face, eyeing the man with more than his simple curiosity he displayed when meeting a stranger.

"Slimer!" Janine called and he stopped, turning to her.

"Who? Me?" he asked, pointing at himself.

"Yes, you. Stop bothering our visitors."

The little ghost looked at the man again, who looked back with a strange look on his face. Janine, after shooting the man a look, turned back to Tony Calloway. "Miss Calloway, I promise to tell the Ghostbusters to call you. You can describe your problem and they'll decide if it's minor or urgent."

Tony threw her hands in the air. "It is urgent! That's what I'm telling you! You think demons trying to break into your apartment are minor?"

"Demons? I thought you said ghosts?"

"Ghosts, demons, whatever. We need help."

Janine sighed. Customers like this always got on her nerves. "Miss Calloway," she said patiently. "I told you that the Ghostbusters will come back to you, okay?"

Tony Calloway started to say something when the man intervened. "Tony," he chided her, his voice dark and pleasant. "I think we should go now."

She opened her mouth and closed it again without saying a word. Then she threw a small paper card on the desk, and with a last glare at Janine she turned and left Ghostbuster Central. The man gave Janine an apologetic smile and followed her. The red-haired secretary stared after the two. When the man had spoken it had given her goose bumps. His voice was ... was ... very pleasant. She shook her head. Nonsense. He just happened to look a bit strange. Then she spotted Slimer, who was still hovering close to her. His orange eyes were fixed on the closed door.

"Slimer?" she inquired. "What's up?"

"Man strange," the little ghost said, looking at her with large eyes and wringing his hands. "Slimer don't like him."

Janine frowned deeply and took the card Tony Calloway and left. 'A. J. Calloway' it said, giving address and phone number right under the name. The secretary made a note and then turned back to her work, though her mind was still on the two strange visitors.

 

*

 

 _Today I decided that it can't go on like this. We've had several attacks by the demons who are after Damien and every time we escaped just barely. Damien doesn't want to make a big deal out of it, but I do! And today the last of the attackers -- the only one still here to pester us -- nearly wrecked my apartment. I don't know if involving the Ghostbusters is such a brilliant idea, but who else could help us? My family? Nah, not Mom and Dad. Even if Damien's right about my talents -- which I hadn't even heard of until the first attack, thank-you-oh-so-very-much, my demonic friend -- how do I know what to do?_

 _Yeah, my talents. This family's full of surprises. I'm not a witch or a sorceress, mind you. The only talent I have, is having no real talent at all. Confusing, huh? It confused me. Well, Damien tried to explain it. He said something about me projecting a protective field that hides his true nature to all other supernatural entities. Sounds crazy, but if he says so ..... He also explained that I can't control what I do. Great!_

 _Then how did the other demons find us? Very good question. I don't know. I just hope that the Ghostbusters can help us. And I hope I didn't make a big mistake in calling them. It could cost Damien his existence._

 

* * *

 

The Ghostbusters returned two hours after the incident. Ecto-1 rolled into the fire hall and four tired men got out, their overalls in various states of being slimed.

"I quit!"

Raymond Stantz grinned at this statement from his dark-haired colleague and grabbed the three ghost traps. "C'mon, Peter. You love it, don't you?"

Peter Venkman grimaced and rubbed his aching back. "Yeah, love it", he muttered without any enthusiasm. "I love running around with a hundred kilo backpack, being slimed by ghosts and coming home feeling like I've aged 20 or more years in an hour."

Ray's grin stayed. Peter always complained after a long, hard day, but neither he, nor the others would ever trade their job for something quiet and restful.

Suddenly a green something oozed through the ceiling and dove straight towards the psychologist.

"Peeeeteeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrr!"

Slimer, their green, very slimy pet ghost, splattered into Peter, smearing him with ectoplasm.

"Peeeterrr hooooome!" the ghost exulted and wrapped skinny arms around Peter's neck, giving him a messy kiss.

"YAAAAAHHHH!" Peter cried in disgust, trying to shove Slimer away from him. "Yeach, Slimer! Get off!!"

Slimer backed obediently away, but not before bestowing another kiss on Peter's cheek. The slime-covered psychologist turned to Ray with a sour expression.

"And I just love coming home from a nice picnic with a demon and his friends to get slimed by this little pest."

Ray's face didn't loose its amused expression. "Slimer adores you, Peter, and you know it."

"I wish he'd adore something else. The containment unit for instance. I could easily transform his adoration in a permanent stay." He gave Slimer a malevolent glare.

The little ghost backed away with a shriek, fleeing to the relative safety behind Ray's back. Ray patted the frightened ghost. "He's joking, Slimer."

"No, he isn't," Peter grumbled and wiped at the green slime on his former brown uniform. It mixed with the pink slime that was already there. "He's completely serious. And now he's going upstairs to get a hot shower and some rest." Peter's green eyes narrowed and he looked at Slimer. "I hope you didn't use my absence to transform my bed into the Slime Zone."

Slimer looked guiltily at him and quickly vanished through the floor into the basement. Peter's face changed from white to red to white again as he stared after the ghost.

"One day, I swear it, one day I'm gonna blast him!"

"Aw, Pete, I'm sure he didn't mean it. He missed you."

"He can miss me somewhere else and not in my bed." Peter stomped gruffly up the stairs to claim the first shower.

"I'll empty the traps", Winston Zeddemore said and left for the basement where the containment unit sat.

"I'm not taking any calls till the end of this millennium," Peter called down to their secretary.

"Hard day?" Janine Melnitz asked.

The last of the four Ghostbusters, Egon Spengler, looked up from the P.K.E. meter he was studying. He had ignored the usual banter and Peter's enraged screaming and complaints about Slimer.

"Complicated, but not hard," he replied absent-mindedly. He looked at the display of the meter again.

"Yeah, it was a tricky little critter", Ray agreed. "Any calls?" he asked Janine.

"Nothing that can't wait -- except that." She held up a small card.

Ray took it. "A. J. Calloway," he read. "Who's that?"

"That's a woman who came here while you were gone and asked for your help. Said it was urgent, but I don't really know ... there's something funny about them."

"Them? I thought you said it was a woman."

Janine shrugged. "There was a guy with her. Didn't say much. It was only her doing the talking. First she said she had a problem with ghosts. Then it suddenly were demons."

Egon looked up from his meter. "It looks like Miss Calloway does not know what is haunting her."

Janine snorted. "I think it's all a big hoax. The two of them were really strange. Slimer thinks so too, don't you, Slimer?"

Slimer floated over to them and nodded. "Uh-huh, uh-huh. Really strange. Man felt funny. Don't like him. Uh-huh."

"Felt funny?" Ray echoed. "How did he feel?"

Slimer frowned, looking like he was thinking hard. "Felt like ... dunno .... felt like ... ghost."

The two Ghostbusters stared at each other. "A ghost? He felt like a ghost?" Ray pressed.

Slimer nodded, small globs of ectoplasm flying around. "Strange man, feel like ghost, but not like other ghosts. Not like Slimer. Really strange."

Egon frowned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I think we should pay Miss Calloway a visit after all."

 

* * *

 

The apartment where A. J. Calloway was living in -- following the address on the card -- was outside the city. It was on the second floor of the building with the number 1277. The first floor was a shop for herbs and very weird looking, other stuff. The name was Mystique Shoppe. As the Ghostbusters walked towards the stairs leading to the first floor one day after Ms. A.J. Calloway had stormed into Central a man opened the door of the Mystique Shoppe.

"What the bloody hell are you lads supposed to be?" he asked, his accent clearly British.

"We are the Ghostbusters, sir," Ray explained. "We are looking for the apartment of Ms. A.J. Calloway."

"Anthonia?" The old man eyed them closely through thick glasses. "Right upstairs."

"Thank you, sir," Stantz said politely and the four men went upstairs.

They stopped in front of the wooden door. A small name plate told them this was the right apartment. The plate had a half-molten look to it. Egon got out his P.K.E. meter and switched it on. The small device gave a protesting squeal and the physicist shut it down quickly.

"There's definitely something here," he said, looking at the last reading on the screen. "And it's very strong."

Ray shot a look at the read-out and whistled. "Wow! That looks like no ghost I've ever seen."

"Precisely. It looks more like a demon."

"Ah, no!" Peter moaned. "Not a demon! I've had enough of demons for this month. We already had to bust two of them."

"I'm not sure it is really a demon, Peter." Egon raised one eyebrow. "I only said it looks like a demon. Maybe it's a half-demon. Judging by the readings it's very well possible."

"Why don't we knock and find out?" Winston asked and knocked at the door.

Seconds later the door was opened by a slight, blond woman with spiky hair, wearing jeans and a too large sweat shirt. She looked a bit grimy and her sweat-shirt had seen better days. A towel was tucked into her jeans' belt. As she took in the four men her lips drew up in a half smile. "The Ghostbusters," she said, not sounding overexcited, but still marginally pleased to see them. "I didn't think I'd see you here -- in the next few weeks."

"Ms. Calloway," Egon began, "you asked for our help concerning a paranormal problem."

She eyed them. "I did, didn't I?"

"May we come in?" Ray asked.

"Sure, why not?" Ms. Calloway opened the door to let them in. "Hope you don't mind the mess. Last night was a bit rough on the furniture and wallpaper."

The apartment, which was more or less one big room with two doors leading to other rooms -- maybe the bathroom and the bedroom --, looked like a hurricane had hit it. There was a mess of books, pieces of broken glass and flowers lying on the floor. One table was overturned and there were cracks in one wall. A computer, sitting on the still standing table, looked slightly burned.

Egon fiddled with the P.K.E. meter and switched it on again. This time it gave a shrill scream, but didn't start smoking. The little arms of the device shot into the highest position, blinking madly.

"Must have been one heck of a party," Peter commented as he took in the sight.

"I wish it had been a party," the blond woman said with a dry smile. "Then I could say I had a good time making a wreck out of this room."

"I'm picking up the remnants of a paranormal attack within the last 24 hours," Egon told his colleagues.

"It was last night," A. J. Calloway corrected him.

"That's incredible," Ray said. "You were attacked by a paranormal entity and nothing really happened to you!"

"Well, not to me, but to my apartment. That's just as bad."

"Do you know what the entity wanted from you, Miss Calloway?" Egon wanted to know.

"Please call me 'Tony'. I hate 'Miss Calloway'. Makes me feel so old." Her eyes followed Peter and Winston as the two men looked around the apartment, inspecting some things more closely. "And to answer your question, Dr. Spengler: yes, I think so."

Egon raised an eyebrow.

"They're after a good friend of mine."

"And do you know why?"

"He once said something about demons hunting him for defying a Demon Lord. That's about it." She shrugged.

"Defying a Demon Lord?" Ray asked, puzzled by her non-chalant behavior. "Who is this friend, Miss Cal .... ehm ... Tony?"

"Me," a dark, male voice answered.

The four men whirled around and stared at the new-arrival. Nobody had heard him coming! He was dark-haired, dressed in black jeans and a black shirt and wearing sun-glasses. Now he stood in front of one of the two doors, watching the Ghostbusters warily.

"And you are ....?"

"My name is Damien MacKaylan. I'm an old friend of Tony's family."

Egon lifted the P.K.E. meter and pointed it at the man, but because of all the residual energy from the recent attack all he got were those strong readings.

"Mr. MacKaylan," Ray addressed the new comer. "Tony said you were hunted by demons because you defied their Lord."

The dark-haired man nodded. "Yes."

Puzzled by the cryptic answer Ray went on. "And could you tell us why they are hunting you precisely? What did you do? How did you get in contact with a demon lord? And who are those demons?"

Damien exchanged an uneasy glance with Tony, which didn't go by unnoticed by Peter Venkman. "The demon who attacked us is called Ascgal," he then said. Egon made a note. "He's been following me for a long time, but he never found me. And what I did was not follow an order by the Lord."

The Ghostbusters noticed how he evaded specific answers. Egon recalibrated something at his meter. Then he pointed it at Damien again.

"Mr. MacKaylan shows a very faint demonic aura," he then told his colleagues.

Damien paled behind his dark sun-glasses.

"Maybe it's because of Mr. MacKaylan's contact with a demon lord," Ray suggested.

Egon shook his head. "It's not a residue. It's an aura." His blue eyes fixed on the dark-haired man. "He seems to be more than we can see."

"I thought you came to bust that thing that's bothering me," Tony suddenly interjected, trying to draw the attention of the Ghostbusters away from Damien. "And not bother my room-mate."

"Yes, we did. But it seems that Mr. MacKaylan has a direct connection to the entity in question. And it might help us if we find out what this connection is." Spengler pushed his glasses up his nose.

"So what is your connection, Mr. MacKaylan?" Peter asked, his eyes narrowed and fixed on the other man. Damien appeared very nervous and so did Tony.

"Well, I .... I had some contacts to the Netherworld," he said weakly. "And it didn't work out the way I planned ....."

Peter knew a lie when he heard it, though this sounded more like a half-lie.

"Would you mind?" Tony interrupted again, placing herself in front of her room-mate. "I hired you to trap a demon that's coming out of my wall, not to question my friend! So go and do your job! I'm the one paying for your time, right?"

Her green eyes were blazing like on fire and Peter expected to see smoke coming out of her nose every second. Damien placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"They are right to ask what my connections are, Tony," he suddenly said, his voice quiet and his face very pale. "Since the attack was because of me they have to know what they are up against."

"But ...."

He shook his head. Then he turned to Egon. Inhaling deeply he said, "My name is not Damien MacKaylan. It is Kaylianj. I am a half-demon of the Netherworld."

The four Ghostbusters stared at the human appearing man with open mouths. Egon immediately pointed the P.K.E. meter at Damien again. There was no other reading on the small display screen than before. A faint demonic aura.

"Wow!" Ray cried, his eyes alight. "A demon!"

Damien lifted one corner of his mouth in a humorless grin as he heard and saw the human's enthusiasm. Peter saw the whole situation with less enthusiasm, pulling his rifle from the proton pack and switching it on. He pointed the rifle at Damien.

"Hey, just a second!" Tony placed herself between Damien and Peter. "I didn't call you to bust my friend."

"Your friend? You're friends with a demon?" Winston asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, I am. So what's your problem?"

"Uh, nothing." The black Ghostbuster backed away a little as her eyes flared with anger. An anger directed solely at him.

Damien put his hand on her shoulder again. "Anthonia," he warned her softly.

She flashed him an angry look, then turned to the Ghostbusters, taking a deep breath. "Listen, why don't you sit down and we start the conversation all over again. And don't point that thing at me!" The last one was for Peter, who obediently lowered the rifle a bit, without really taking it off his target.

"Okay," Ray said and picked one of the surviving chairs to sit down. Winston followed his example. Only Peter and Egon choose to remain standing. "Now," the occultist continued, "what is going on?"

Tony sighed and flopped down onto the couch. Damien followed her example and sat down at her side.

"It's a long story," the blonde woman said slowly, "but I don't want to bore you with details. Damien here has been in the family for a very long time. I, myself, inherited him from my aunt."

"Inherited?" Winston echoed. "You mean, like an old vase?"

Tony chuckled, making Damien grimace. "Yeah, maybe like that. One of my ancestors was the first to make contact with him. Damien was fleeing from a nasty bunch of his own kind, who would prefer to see him disintegrated or pulverized or something like this, rather than alive. On his flight from his dimension he met my ancestor, Meggan, and they made a deal. She would hide Damien from his kind and Damien would protect the family from harm. That's the deal we still have."

"Uhm, how can you protect a demon from other demons?" Peter asked, wary eyes still glancing at Damien now and then.

"My family's a bit talented in the psychic area. We can mask other auras with ours -- without even being aware of it. Well, that's what Damien told us." She smiled at him and he returned that smile, though only half-heartedly.

"And now these other demons have found you," Ray concluded.

"Yes. Unfortunately. I don't know why."

"How many of these other demons attacked you?" Egon wanted to know.

"There were three, but thanks to you only one is left."

They gave her a blank look. "Us?" Winston asked.

"Yeah, you busted two of them in the last few weeks." She smiled. "Thanks."

"You mean those two nasties with the bug eyes and the pointy teeth?" Peter wanted to know. "You mean the two which nearly grilled us alive?!"

"Sounds just like the guys." Tony nodded. "Can you help us?"

"Well," Ray began, "the other two weren't much of a problem and ......"

"Ra--hay ....." Peter grabbed the occultist's arm and pulled him with him to one corner of the room. "Are you crazy?" he then hissed in a low voice. "We're being asked to help a demon to get rid of his buddies!"

Ray's serious, hazel eyes looked at him. "No, Peter. We are being asked by a human being to help her with her paranormal problem."

"Ray, the only paranormal problem I see sits with her on the couch, wearing sun-glasses inside a room."

"I don't see what the presence of Mr. MacKaylan has to do with taking on the case or not," Egon said, stepping up to them, followed by Winston.

"What he has to do with it? Egon, he's a demon!"

"But he's not the one we are supposed to bust, Pete," Winston explained. "Tony asked us for help to get rid of another demon."

"What has the world come to?" Peter asked no-one in specific. "Now we're being hired to help someone protect a demon from demons! Next thing we know, we're playing bodyguard for guys like the Ghostmaster!"

"Think of it as that: we keep Slimer with us, then why shouldn't someone else share living space with a paranormal entity?" Ray shrugged. "He seems nice enough."

"I give up," the psychologist muttered.

The four men turned back to Tony and Damien. "We need some more information about the demon attacking you," Egon began without preamble. "And I'd like to take some readings of you, Ms Calloway."

"Sure. No problem." The blond woman frowned. "Does it hurt?"

Egon simply sighed silently. Why did everyone think it hurt when he was talking about taking readings from them? "No, it doesn't hurt," he finally said.

"One more question," Winston held her back from following Egon over to the desk where some of their equipment lay. "Why did your family help a demon in the first place? I mean, it's not an everyday's problem that a demon pops up in your room and asks for help."

Tony sighed. "Meggan, my grand-grand-grand ... and-so-on-aunt, or whatever relation she really has with me, was pure heart and warmth, as Aunt Marga always put it. She just couldn't look away when someone was in need. So when Damien 'popped up', as you put it, and asked for her help she did just that. I don't think she knew what she was getting into."

"Can't you get out of the deal?" Peter wanted to know.

"Oh, yeah. Could do so now. I could just let him get killed or kidnapped or whatever they do when they get him. But," Tony's green eyes narrowed, "I would never do such a thing. He's a friend, a very good friend, demon or not."

Venkman held up both hands. "Hey, no problem."

"It is a problem," she stated. "I can see it. You don't trust me and you don't like having him around. Fine. As long as you remember shooting only at the enemy and not the ally." With that Tony turned and walked over to where Egon was waiting for her.

 

* * *

 

"This is amazing," Ray said, shaking his head and switching off the P.K.E. meter.

Egon, who sat at the table, going over various things in Tobin's Spirit Guide on their laptop, nodded. "It really is."

"I mean, Damien appears so human. And if you don't know what to look for, you really don't see he's not what he seems. For a half-demon he must be pretty strong to shape-change into a human and stay that way for such a long time."

"I'm running a check on him through Tobin's," Egon said and looked up from his work for a second. There was a low beep from the laptop and Egon returned his attention to it. "Aha," he announced.

Ray leaned over his shoulder to get a good look at the information printed on the screen. Winston, curious to see what the other two had found, came over. Ray gave a low whistle.

"Will you look at that."

"Look at what, Ray?" Peter asked and stepped to his three colleagues.

A picture had appeared on the laptop. It showed a black creature, shaped like a dragon, but with two large, feathered wings on its back. A long tail curled aroung it and the blood red eyes were gleaming, even ont he computer picture.

"We found the information on Kaylianj," the blond physicist told him. "Following Tobin's Kaylianj was next in line for the position of the Demon Lord of the Fire Demons. Fire Demons are a notoriously nasty bunch of which we have encountered two already. They are -- by Tobin's standards -- half-demons, but just as strong as normal demons. Kaylianj disappeared from the realms of the Netherworld some hundred years ago."

"Why?" Winston wanted to know. "He was about to be the top guy there, wasn't he?"

"I don't know," Egon confessed. "It doesn't say where he went or what the reason for it was."

"The reason was that I was fed up with being what I was there," a soft voice suddenly said.

The four men started and turned, looking at Damien who had come up as noiselessly as his appearance a few hours ago had been.

"Fed up?" Peter echoed.

He nodded. "I was fed up with my life. It was all politics and power. I couldn't stand it. That's why I decided to leave the Netherworld and look for another reason to exist. The Demon Lord wasn't exactly pleased with it and sent hunters after me. I was lucky to stumble upon Meggan when I needed her and since that time I never went back to the Netherworld."

"I've never heard of something like it before," Winston muttered.

The demon gave him a humorless smile.

"If my readings of the room are correct," Egon went on, "then the demon who tried to breach through last night will be even stronger than the two we trapped a few weeks ago."

The psychologist groaned. "I knew it. I just knew it!"

"How'd you want to trap it then, Egon?" Winston wanted to know.

"I do not know -- yet."

Ray turned to Damien. "If you were really up for the position as a Demon Lord why can't you hold those other demons off?" It was something that had puzzled the occultist from the minute he had heard Damien was a supernatural entity.

"Because I haven't used my powers for hundreds of years. We loose our abilities if we don't practise them," he explained with a shrug. "That's why we're called half-demons. We have the powers, but we have to use and train them constantly. That's also one of the main reasons why there's constant fighting between Fire Demons and why they're so attack-happy."

Venkman shook his head. "This is getting better and better by the minute. First demons in distress, now demons who are not really demons at all. What's next?"

Winston chuckled.

"We could increase the suction of the trap," Egon mused aloud, getting them back to the problem at hand. "I think that should work in getting him into the trap."

"You think?" Peter rolled his eyes, addressing Tony who had just come to them. "I remember the last time Egon thought something would work. He nearly blew the roof off."

Egon scowled. "I did not blow the roof off, Peter," he corrected testily.

"Yeah, you blew the windows out." Peter grinned. "Luckily it was summer."

Egon decided to let the matter drop. Instead of arguing with Peter he came to the problem at hand. He pointed at the laptop's screen. There was a picture -- a drawing -- of a bluish, winged humanoid creature with fangs and yellow eyes. "That is Ascgal, a half-demon and a Fire Demon just like Damien, though from the classification he should be a Class-7 or 8. He has the ability to fly, shoot fire and is generally a very nasty demon."

Peter groaned.

"He's one of the strongest of the half-demons," Egon continued unpertubed. "The other two we trapped in the last weeks were his underlings."

"So now we have to take on the leader. Great. What about that trap-suction thing? You really think that'll do it?" The dark-haired psychologist looked expectantly at the two more scientific oriented Ghostbusters.

Ray nodded. "We think if we modify the trap, so that the suction is tripled, and adjust the streams, we might be able to get him trapped."

"Might be?"

"We have don't have a guarantee that it works," Egon explained. "The trap should be able to suck him in if we can hold him in our containment streams long enough."

"I love that plan," Peter said brightly, giving Ray a friendly clap on the shoulder. "Dangerous, without guarantees and possibly fatal."

"I knew you would see it that way," the physicist replied dryly. "Ray and I will start working on the traps and the packs right away."

"Okay, you do that. I'll take a look around to see were the fire extinguishers are and how to get out of this apartment quick enough in the case of fire."

Tony followed him with her eyes. "Is he always like that?" she asked no one specific.

"Peter's the team sceptic," Winston explained with a smile. "Don't listen to him. And if you do -- try to ignore him."

The blonde woman laughed. "Thanks for the advice."

"Tony?" Ray now addressed her. "One more question: you said your family can shield paranormal entities with your own aura." Tony nodded an affirmative. "What happens if you leave the apartment? What happens if you become seperated?"

The blonde woman smiled. "That was my first question, too. Damien explained that we are bonded. I don't know when it happened and it doesn't feel any different fromt he time before I knew him. As long as we are bonded I somehow protect him. I'm glad I don't have to keep him around me. Would be really difficult to explain to my professors why I'm walking around with a shadow."

"You're studying?"

"History and the Occult. Must be in the blood." Tony grinned.

Ray grinned, too. "Columbia?" he wanted to know.

"Yeah."

"I was at Columbia, too. And I also took Occult. Do you know Professor Fraser?"

Tony nodded. "Little man with glasses, belly and a wild mane? Yeah. He's my professor."

And while the Ghostbusters set to work Ray and Tony exchanged stories about Professor Fraser.

 

* * *

 

Damien felt weird. Weird for a demon that is. He had felt weird since the last attack. It had drained him more than he wanted to confess, least of all to Tony. He had been out of touch with his demonic side for too long and now it backfired in the worst possible way. And it could cost the woman he had sworn to protect her life. Since his first meeting with the human kind, that is Meggan, Tony was the only person beside his initial contact to behave friendly and normal when he was around. Most of the decades he had spent in the attic or the cellar, sleeping, resting, waiting. Some families had accepted him only half-heartedly, some had gone to a great deal of trouble telling him to be as inconspicuous as possible -- in other word: bug off and don't show your face unless you're disguised, favorably as a cat or dog. If he hadn't needed their help in protecting himself from his own kind, he'd have gone off in search for other helpers immediately. But the moment he would leave, he would reveal himself to the Netherworld -- and to the present Demon Lord of the Fire Demons. So he had accepted his fate. It had been him who had asked for help in the first place, hadn't it?

Tony was different from her Aunt Marga. She treated him for what he was: a sentient being. Though he wasn't too keen on riding along on her motorbike and still didn't understand some of the things she called 'fun', he found he had been lucky. He had even been allowed to appear in a human form. Well, Tony had asked him in no uncertain terms to transform himself into something inconspicuous, except an animal. When he had first tried out the human form, she had given him some advice on where to put what and how to shape certain parts of his body. He had been around humans long enough to know how a body looked like, but shaping himself into one, that was different. From the way Tony had looked at him after he had put the finishing touch to it, she had been very pleased.

That she had called the Ghostbusters to help them fight the last of his hunters was something he didn't feel very well about. These humans hunted and trapped his kind for a living. What could stop them from trapping him? Tony. He smiled humorously.

"We're done," the Ghostbuster called Ray Stantz called, holding up a trap.

Damien shuddered at the sight. He would make sure he was far, far away from the thing the moment it opened.

 

* * *

 

Peter yawned, sinking further back into his seat. It was now past 3 a.m. and no demon attack had taken place. Egon was fiddling with his P.K.E. meter, Ray read through a book he had found on one of the shelves and Winston was sleeping, his proton pack ready at his side. Tony Calloway had curled up on the couch while Damien sat at her side. Peter was unable to tell whether his eyes were closed or open since he was still wearing his sun-glasses. But guessing from the rigid posture he was wide awake.

The arms of the clock on the wall moved on to a minute past three. Peter yawned again. Suddenly there was a faint rumbling noise, followed by a high pitched squeal. Winston jerked wide awake, grabbing his thrower.

"What ...?" he asked blurrily.

Tony was also awake, blinking sleepily. Then the first crack in the wall appeared and she was completely awake. "Oh, shit!" she whispered. "Here we go again."

"Peter, Ray, Winston, positions!" Egon ordered, moving into his own position, just left of the trap. Winston moved to the right side while Peter and Ray stood in front of the wall, facing the glowing orange light.

"Classification?" Ray inquired, never letting his eyes off the crack that was slowly getting wider.

"Class-7," Egon answered.

Peter groaned. "I knew I should have stayed in bed this morning."

"Remember," the blond physicist called over the sudden thundering noise that filled the apartment. "Confine him in the streams and hold him over the trap until he's halfway in."

Then, without a warning, without a change in the glow, the wall exploded outward. Winston and Egon moved sideways, while Ray and Peter backed away as much as possible. As they opened their eyes again they were confronted with the attacker. Just in front of him, right in the middle of the room, hovered a bluish, humanoid, yellow-eyed figure with wings that looked barely strong enough to really lift it off the ground. Its lips were drawn back over vampire like fangs. It looked angry, nearly furious. The yellow eyes fixed on Damien, who stood protectively in front of Tony. The blond woman was peeking at the demon from behind the other demon's back.

"Kaylianj!" the new-arrival hissed. "Now I have finally found you. You covered your trail very well. For a time I even lost you."

Damien gave off a low rumble and Winston thought he could see something red flash behind the black glasses. "Why don't you get lost, Ascgal?"

"I will take you back to the Master. He will decide how you will be destroyed." The blue demon sneered.

"Not if we can help it," Peter called. "Let's get him, guys!" Then he fired his stream, followed by the other three Ghostbusters.

The proton streams hit the demon and he screamed in rage and pain. Sharp claws grabbed for the nearest Ghostbusters; and the nearest Ghostbuster was Egon Spengler. The blond physicist had to jump aside, switching off his thrower in the process. Contained by only three streams the demon shook himself free of the ionized protons and charged the weakest member of the four attackers -- Egon, who lay on the floor, looking up as the blue demon swooped down on him.

"Egon!" Ray screamed as the blond man was thrown across the room, connecting hard with wall. He stayed down.

Peter, his anger fueled by concern, attacked the demon again, thereby getting his attention.

"Humans!" the demon hissed in disgust.

Ray and Winston fired, too, hitting the blue demon -- Ascgal -- in the back. He didn't bother with the attack, simply protecting himself with his wings as he charged Peter.

The psychologist backed away until his proton pack bumped into the solid wall behind him. Unable to evade the attack he felt sharp claws bite into his left cheek as the Netherworld entity grabbed for him. The wound stung and he moved to one side, still firing, but not doing any good with it. Another swipe with the claws teared the jumpsuit. Peter gave a yelp of pain and his thrower wavered.

Ascgal jumped. Suddenly another proton stream hit him in the back and he was halted in mid-leap. Peter lifted his own weapon again and fired, too, ignoring the pain. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Egon struggling to sit upright as he trained the beam on their visitor, his face white and taut. They trapped him between the four streams.

"He's still too strong!" Ray gasped, his eyes searching desperately for the trap -- which lay right were he had placed it and where the demon no longer was. He cursed inwardly. "Winston!" he called. "The trap!"

But Winston couldn't get to it. Holding the demon with his stream and getting the trap was something that was impossible. All he could do was throw out his own trap, which was not modified to pull the entity in and because of that useless. But out of the corner of his eyes he noticed a slight figure moving quickly toward the trap. Tony!

The blue demon saw the woman, too, and turned to this new threat, pulling away at the streams. His claws grabbed the defenseless human and she gave a cry of surprise, beginning to struggle. The Ghostbusters stopped their fire.

"Let her go, Ascgal!" Damien cried, anger and fear showing on his face.

"You will come with me, traitor. Then I will let the human go." Ascgal tightened his hold on Tony and she gasped.

Damien took a step forward, lifting his hands. "Don't hurt her! I will come with you if you let her go."

"You love that human enough to really sacrifice yourself?" The other demon grimaced. "Disgusting! Maybe I should kill her and then destroy you." He tightened his hold again.

Damien hissed and there was a sound of tearing clothes. Winston gaped. The sun-glasses were gone and what the other men could see were a pair of snake-like red glowing eyes. Black, feathered wings adorned the back, spread out and glistening.

"Don't even think about it, traitor," Ascgal hissed. "She will surely die if you lift more than a finger at me." He snapped his fingers and the gateway opened, spilling orange light into the room. "Inside!" he ordered.

Damien did as he was told, giving Tony a quick look. Her green eyes were fixed solely on him and she was shaking her head ever so slightly. He bit his lips. Suddenly she remembered the trap she was still holding. Her fingers searched for the trigger, finding none. Then she remembered what she had seen of the Ghostbusters on TV and she rolled her eyes to glance to the floor. Close to her left foot was the pedal that would trigger the opening mechanism of the trap. Tony came to a decision. She stepped on the pedal.

The trap opened.

Ascgal gave a yell of surprise, letting go of the blond woman.

Tony threw herself on the floor.

The Ghostbusters fired their throwers.

Damien lifted his hands, blue lightning dancing between his fingers. A stream of pure, blue color left his hands and hit the other demon full in the chest. The entity was thrown backwards into the wall, denting it. But instead of staying down as Winston had suspected after such a blow, Ascgal roared irately and jumped at Damien. The two entities clawed and grabbed at each other and though he couldn't really be a judge of it, Zeddemore was pretty sure that Damien was loosing the fight.

In the meantime Tony had grabbed the trap, which had closed after not trapping anything, and throwing it out towards the two demons, casting anxious glances at her protector and protégé. She was ready to open it again.

"We have to wait until they part long enough for us to pull Ascgal away!" Ray called, watching the fight, waiting for an opening.

A shelf crashed to the floor and the blue demon jumped back, giving them just that opening. The Ghostbusters fired, four streams hitting right on target, two of them wavering a bit. Damien moved quickly away from his opponent and hunter while Tony flung the trap at Ascgal as she had seen the Ghostbusters do so many times on TV.

"Wait for my signal!" Ray called to her and she nodded. Stantz counted silently and then yelled, "Now!", and she stomped onto the trigger.

The trap opened and a brilliant white light shot out of it, enveloping the blue demon. Ascgal, still trapped in the streams, gave a howl and tried to wriggle free, but the combined power of the streams and the trap made it impossible. He was sucked slowly inside and only when the trap closed its doors did the Ghostbusters switch off their proton beams.

Damien sagged to the ground, his breathing labored. His wings collapsed around him and blood stained not only his clothes, but also the floor. Tony was at his side immediately, taking inventory. There were numerous cuts and bruises, but, being a demon, Damien should be able to heal those superficial injuries in no time. The more worriesome injury was a long and deep cut on his left shoulder, close to the wing muscle. It bled sluggishly now, but Damien had lost a lot of blood before he had been able to close the blood vessels enough to keep himself from bleeding to death.

"Are you all right?" he asked Tony.

"Yeah," the blonde woman answered dismissively. "No problem. It takes more than a lousy demon to keep me down." She flashed him a brilliant smile.

"Lousy demon?" Peter echoed. He had fallen down on the couch and now turned his head to stare at Tony. "Lousy demon?"

She shrugged. "Well, maybe just a demon, without the 'lousy'." Another brilliant smile. "You trapped him and you saved out lives. Thanks." The last was said with a very serious expression.

The psychologist shrugged, wincing as the movement pulled at the scratch on his shoulder. "Just business as usual," he said. "Don't mention it."

"Business as usual, huh?" Winston chuckled. Then he looked at Egon. "You okay, m'man?"

The blond man gave him a tired smile. Ray was already fussing over him, but had discovered nothing more than a few bruises and a bump on the head. "I'm fine, Winston. Just a bit dizzy."

Peter gave him a close, visual examination. The physicist looked okay, though he appeared tired and beat. Before he could say anything there was a loud knocking on the door.

"What the bloody hell is going bloody on in there!" a positively English accented voice called.

Damien and Tony gave each other a knowing smile. "Arthur Bluethale," they said in unison .

The owner of the Mystique Shoppe stepped into the room and his blue eyes took in the mess that had once been a room, the four Ghostbusters, and the two occupants of the apartment.

"Having a party, lass?" he asked Tony.

"Nah, just a little paranormal problem."

"I told you that having a demon in the house is nothing but trouble." Bluethale shook his head. "Nothing but bloody trouble."

"You know he's a demon?" Winston asked in surprise, pointing at Damien.

Bluethale nodded. "Sure, laddie. Why not? Everyone with a little bit of brains inside their heads can see it. " He looked at the Ghostbuster. "Don't I know you from somewhere. Think I remember seeing you before, haven't I?" He peered owlishly through his glasses.

"We're the Ghostbusters, Mr. Bluethale," Ray explained. "Remember? We met yesterday when we arrived."

"The Ghostbusters, eh? Yes, I remember. You lads wanted to see Anthonia. Heard a lot about you lads. Bloody marvelous job you do. Bloody marvelous." He nodded.

"Uhm, thanks." Ray and Winston exchanged glances. The guy was weird.

The Englishman discovered Peter's scratches and frowned. "You should disinfect that, my boy. And you," he addressed Egon, "look like you could use an aspirin. I think I've got some down somewhere in my shop. Let me get 'em."

The psychologist simply blinked at the older man.

"Mr. Bluethale," Tony began, deciding that so shortly after the battle was no time to give anyone a big dose of 'Bluethale', "why don't you go back to the Shoppe. Aren't you opening in a few minutes?"

"Right, Anthonia. You are absolutely correct. Nearly forgot that. Forget my own head next. I will come back after closing time to make you lads a tea. Good, old-fashioned tea does wonders to headaches." The Englishman smiled and left.

Damien chuckled. "He's one of a kind," he said fondly, struggling back to his feet. His wings lay protectively around his body.

"Yes, and forgetful as hell too." Tony looked at the Ghostbusters. "But he was right about you guys. I'll go and get the first-aid-kit."

Peter moaned heart-breakingly. "Yes, get me a nurse, guys. I think I'm gonna faint." He rolled his eyes and gave Tony a wink. She simply snorted and went to the bathroom to get her first-aid-kit.

 

* * *

 _Captain's Log, Supplemental. I always wanted to say that. Well, now I'm writing it down. Damien always said I'm watching too much TV, but what the heck. I'm beginning to like writing a personal journal. It's been two days now since the Ghostbusters were here and trapped Ascgal. The bill arrived -- personally delivered by Dr. Venkman. He also delivered an invitation for dinner. I'm still deciding whether to go or not. He appears like the typical ladies' man. Damien tells me to go and date him. Geez, what's he trying to do? Open up a dating service? Well, maybe I'll do it. I haven't been to a restaurant for ages._

 _Anything else is just fine. We re-did the whole apartment since the Ghostbusters destroyed or wrecked what was still intact. Looks nice again. Damien seems to be feeling well, too, now that the hunters are gone. And this gives me thoughts. Thoughts I don't really want to entertain. He's safe now. There's no-one hunting him anymore. What keeps him from leaving?_

Tony laid down her pen, staring at the pages. Yes, what kept him from leaving?

"You," a voice said behind him.

She spun around, staring at Damien in annoyance. "Don't sneak up on me!"

He raised both hands as in defense. "Don't bite me."

She sighed, then looked curiously at him. "What did you mean with 'You'?" she then asked.

"Just what I said. I can't go back to my people, and this world, well, I've grown quite attached to it. I'm fond of it."

"Don't you dare tell me you're fond of me, too," she said hotly. "If you do, you're toast!"

He grinned. "I'd never say such a thing." But the strange look in his eyes told her more than she was willing to accept herself.

"So you won't leave?"

He shook his head. "Not until you throw me out."

Tony relaxed a bit, leaning back in her chair. "Well, I just got you housebroken," she mused aloud and with a definite twinkle in her eyes. "It would be a shame to throw you out now. And I still need someone to help me redecorate the other rooms."

Damien chuckled. "I knew there was a reason why you kept me around."


End file.
